


Call It Fate, Call It Karma

by RedNightingale



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, M/M, One Night Stands, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-SEP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-25 00:53:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21548488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedNightingale/pseuds/RedNightingale
Summary: He should’ve known that leaving a place with no strings attached never works; because when you aren’t looking, they crawl up your legs and make you trip on your feet. And hindsight's a bitch.(The one where Jack has a one-night stand before leaving for SEP and then discovers the man whose dick he'd been riding the night before is now his supperior)
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 31
Kudos: 280





	Call It Fate, Call It Karma

Leaving a place with no strings attached is every bit as trying to imprison Magneto. You know it’s a bad idea, you know it’s been tried before, it has never worked out, and it has never worked out _for a reason_. But, with one part naïveté and three parts ego, you think _your_ approach is somehow slightly different than the previous iterations that came and failed before, so _this one time_ it might just work out.

The end result surprises no one.

* * *

Back home, there had only been one bar within walking distance of the farm. Even calling it a bar was somewhat of an overstatement: the dusty hole in the side of the road always seemed to be on the verge of falling apart and could barely count as a building. The entrance was always covered by pickup trucks with familiar plates, surrounded by the occasional motorcycle or trailer on a pit stop in the middle of their way through the Midwest. There _were_ bars within driving distance in the town nearby, but only a handful, and traveling there required a designated driver —and in a community as small and tightly-knit as that, gossip reached your home well before you could get one foot out of the door. If the owner wasn’t part of your family, they were an acquaintance, or at least someone in the room was. Everybody knew everybody’s family line up to at least three generations: there was no sneaking in.

Usually, drinking alcohol before being 21 involved sibling bribing and lukewarm beer in someone’s basement. But that got pretty old pretty fast, and didn’t quite cover the other _fun_ aspects of bar drinking.

It had, therefore, been _very_ refreshing to come to the city and walk through the door without even getting carded. The security guy hadn’t even spared him a second glance, the big shoulders and sharp jawline doing half the trick, and had allowed him in while absent-mindedly checking his phone. The wooden floor was so sticky that if you fell you ran the risk of not being able to get back up, and the bare lightbulbs hanging precariously from the ceiling were half broken, leaving the room in a dim light.

Jack nursed the ice cubes left on the empty glass. The bar was half full, mostly men hunched on their piece of the bar staring intently at the bottom of their glass. There were a handful of groups, sitting on the tables on the far back, but the noise of their mumbled conversations barely made it through, overshadowed by the music. The strong base of the song playing in the background made the wooden bar vibrate.

He was contemplating his choices when he felt a gaze on him, pricking the hairs on the back of his neck. A pleasant tingle ran down his spine when he looked up and made eye contact with the man in the black hoodie on the other end of the bar. He’d came in about half an hour after Jack had entered, given him a brief once-over, smirked to himself, and crossed the room. Jack had been unable to keep his eyes to himself since: his gaze always found itself coming back to the muscled forearms perched on the bar, to the big hands and long fingers absent-mindedly tracing circles on the rim of the glass that seemed to have a magnetic pull of their own crafted with the explicit purpose of attracting his eyes, to the broad back and the single line of bronze skin that could be seen through the half-unzipped hoodie like temptation itself hanging _just_ out of reach. Jack’s blood boiled with just the feeling of the gaze on him alone, strong enough to almost feel it on his skin like a caress and addicting enough that it clouded Jack’s mind with a fog of lust and effectively derailed his train of thought in one second flat. The hoodie was loose, but the jeans seemed tight enough to be painted on, and that ass was making him very jealous of the stool underneath. He’d been orbiting the man for the better part of the night, caught in his gravitational field —unable to drift away but unable to stray closer— and it wasn’t the first time he’d caught him staring back, seemingly under the same spell. His expression was unreadable, though, and Jack still couldn’t decide if the man wanted to pick Jack up or start a fight with him.

His mind was leaning on the latter, but his dick was _really_ hoping for the former, because the dude was a solid 10 and ranking higher the more he looked.

To hell with it. Not like he’d be there in the morning to deal with the fallout, anyway. When the bartender came close, he asked for another drink for himself and handed a bill. “I’ll pay for whatever he’s having, too,” he added, before she turned around. She flashed him a knowing smile and nodded. Her auburn ponytail bobbed as she turned to the cash register, and again as she picked two glasses and filled them with scotch.

It was a ridiculous thing to get worked up about. Still, his heartbeat quickened when her pale hands pushed one glass towards himself and picked the other one up. He tried to fight the urge to openly stare, but his eyes still stole a quick glance when she brought the stranger the glass. She had leaned on the bar, her petite and lean frame resting against the forearms on the wood that framed her chest and highlighted the cleavage through the black tanktop. The stranger seemed to pay no mind to that, however, and merely arched an eyebrow at the full glass —gesture half-hidden by the dim light— and asked something Jack couldn’t decipher from his lips. Jack was openly staring then, too caught up in those glorious, plush lips moving around the words to care about politeness. The bartender smiled, making a small hand gesture towards his position. The man looked at him, then, and Jack maintained his steely gaze to rise on the unspoken challenge. His expression remained unreadable until he broke eye contact and turned around.

When Jack lowered his gaze back to the glass, he could see him standing up out of the corner of his eye. He smiled to himself. So, either he was getting laid tonight, or joining Fight Club. He was down for both, this point of the night. Not exactly 50/50, though. More like 20 to getting his face punched, 80 to getting fucked into next morning.

A man could dream.

The man picked the stool next to his. This close, he could smell his cologne, deep and musky, clouding his senses. God, and he’d thought staring from afar was making his pants uncomfortable enough. If the sight alone was already like a strong pull, the whole package was like a sucker punch stealing the air from his lungs. He gasped for air, only for his lungs to be filled with more of the intoxicating smell.

The man stared at him, quizzically. “Are we celebrating something?” His eyes —the color of the scotch on his glass and twice as inebriating— stayed fixed on Jack’s, his mouth only slightly tugging upwards. Fuck, those lips. He’d certainly not been paying enough attention to those lips. What a waste. He licked his own, hungry like he hadn’t been in a long time.

“Mourning, more like. A several-year-long dry spell.”

The man laughed. “You aiming to put an end to it?” He could swear his voice had dropped an octave at that. Jack shifted in his seat, trying to diffuse the lust that threatened to burn him from the inside out. It was like he was still trying to make merits long after he’d made the cut. Jack was already hook, line and sinker–everything else seemed like an overkill at this point.

“No, it’s actually about to begin.” Both his eyebrows went up at that, amused, so he elaborated. “I’m starting a new job tomorrow, and I doubt I’ll be having much time for… that kind of activities.” Which was, incidentally, the reason he’d come to the bar in the first place. He was about to tell the man that much, the pleasant buzz of alcohol and the thrill of having his undivided attention having dulled his filters enough that he was feeling lucky and so, so incredibly bold. But he was cut short.

“Shame.” He was given a blatant once-over at that, blood rushing to his face as the man’s gaze traveled slowly downwards, a smirk creeping up his face, and then went back up twice as slowly. Time seemed to come to a halt and the rest of the world disappeared around them. The guitar riff of the fading background song vibrated through the atmosphere, the only sound he could make out apart from his own, shuddering breath. Lust coiled in his gut, warm and dense like molten lead. He darted a glance to those lips before slowly looking back up.

“It starts tomorrow, though. Tonight doesn’t count.” Tonight was his attempt at compensating for the next years of self-imposed celibacy, and if the man was planning to put his money where his mouth was, it might just work out.

“Doesn’t it?” His voice was low and raspy, tingled with amusement and a low undercurrent of danger that was making Jack’s blood boil underneath his skin.

Jack took a sip of his drink to steady his nerves. His Adam’s apple bobbled as he swallowed. The alcohol burned its way through his throat. When he looked back, the man was staring at him intently, eyes slightly glazed and pupils dilated. They seemed to have engulfed those brown irises in the vast black. But that might have simply been a trick of the lights. “I’m enjoying my last free hours,” he added.

The man leaned closer, placing his arm in the bar mere inches away from Jack’s. He could feel the heat radiating off his skin, pricking the hairs on his own. “And what are you planning to do with them?”

He shrugged. “You know,” he licked his lips, nervous in spite of the clear signs. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Silence stretched in the room, broken only by the fading notes of the ending song. The stranger took a sip of his drink, placed it back on the counter and traced the circle of the rim with the tip of his finger.

The man smiled to himself.

“I’m Gabriel.”

“Jack.”

***

“That’s not how you drink tequila.”

Jack looked up from the grains of salt pooling in his palm. “Isn’t it?” He pouted. Alcohol was making him loose-limbed and fuzzy-headed, enough for the last remnants of self-consciousness to ebb away.

“You just take it neat. None of this salt-and-lime _gringo_ bullshit.” He lifted his hand to grab Jack’s open palm and drop its contents on the floor, but Jack used his other hand to grab him by the wrist. Electricity shot trough him from the place they were touching, making him shudder at the contact. Slowly, he brought the hand to his mouth, making a show of licking Gabriel’s index and middle fingers with his eyes half-lidded, tracing the tip with his tongue in a zig-zagging motion before taking them in his mouth. He didn’t need to look up to know Gabriel was staring at him: he could feel his gaze burning on him. He stared at him right in the eye as he worked on coating them in saliva, savoring the way he stayed unmoving, lips parted and eyes unfocused. He looked about two hot seconds from short-circuiting. When he was satisfied with the result, he took them off his mouth and used them to trail a wet diagonal line on his throat. He dropped Gabriel’s hand and used his palm to cover it with salt, the grains sticking to the line of saliva he’d just drawn. The man still hadn’t moved. Jack picked the lime and bit on the edge, waiting with a risen eyebrow.

“ _Fine,”_ Gabriel said. The breathlessness made arousal pool on Jack’s gut like liquid metal. “We’ll do it your way.”

“Because I asked nicely?” He inquired, taking off the lime.

“Only because you asked nicely.”

***

“Are you always this forward?”

“Depends. Are you always this easy?”

***

“Oh, thank _fuck._ ” The door hadn’t even closed all the way through before Gabriel was on him, with one hand against his neck and the other snaking up his shirt, pinning him against the wall as if Jack planned to be anywhere else. The painting hanging on the wall rattled when Jack’s back hit it. He arched into the touch, and their mouths met halfway. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Actually, Jack _did_ get an idea, if the insistent hardness grinding against his thigh was anything to go by, but stringing two words together was proving itself difficult enough to try and tell him that much, so he let it slide.

The cab ride to Gabriel’s motel room — _mine’s closer_ , he’d whispered against the shell of his ear, and at that point even right there on the bar’s dirty floor still seemed too far— had been somewhat manageable: the sobering lights and eventual judgmental glance of the driver through the back mirror doing enough to recede the tendrils of hot lust into a low undercurrent underneath his skin, even as Gabriel’s hand remained a solid weight on his thigh, even as the stolen glances revealed Gabriel was still planning to devour him alive, even as his own hand tried to sneak its way to his pants. The elevator, though, had been nothing short of torture, Gabriel dropping all pretenses of modesty and sneaking heated glances at him among the unsuspecting eyes of the other three people in the elevator. His knuckles were going white against the metal railing with the force of keeping himself in place. He licked his lips, feeling hungry eyes following the movement. His own gravitated towards the exposed column of Gabriel’s throat: it took every ounce of self-restraint not to pounce on him then and there and mark that glorious skin like every fiber of him was screaming to. Time dripped slowly like black treacle, the floors left to cross seemingly never-ending even as the rest of the people seemed completely unaware, immune to the atmosphere charged enough to make Jack’s hairs stand on end.

After what felt like an eternity, the doors opened with a _ding_. The two people left to their floor, and as they disappeared along the hallway they exchanged a heated glance. Gabriel reached for the doors button, too impatient to let them close on their own, and pressed himself against Jack in the process. _Soon_ , he’d whispered, and if it hadn’t been for the vice-like grip on the railing Jack was pretty sure that deep tone would’ve made his knees give out.

The last remnants of self-restraint had flown out of the window the moment they stepped out into the deserted hall. The kiss had been downright _explosive_ , filled with frenzy and desperation, an outlet to the current of electric blue lust that had been running through them for the whole night like a lightning striking ground. Gabriel’s hands had traveled up, nails scratching their way through his abs until he’d reached his chest and begun tracing slow circles on his nipple. Jack had moaned into the kiss, and Gabriel had taken the chance to catch his lower lip between his teeth. The lights had cracked above them, the sizzle of the blinking lightbulb the only sound to join their ragged breaths amid the desert of silence. Gabriel’s hands had tensed when he’d heard the echoing footsteps approaching, but didn’t stop. Jack hadn’t seen who it was, too busy trailing a beeline of kisses down Gabe’s throat to really bother.

“Easy,” he’d chided, but it lacked any force when his voice was breathless and raspy and his eyes unfocused. “Not where people can see. I do have work tomorrow, too.”

“And somewhere hidden?” Jack had asked, hand unsubtly groping his inner thigh. He was praying to every deity he knew that Gabriel would let him suck hickeys there. The idea of those thighs around his head had been running through his mind for the whole night like a virus. “Under the collar. I’ll behave.”

“You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Jackie.” Gabriel’s head made a thunk as it banged against the wall.

The footsteps had receded, accompanied by the sound of a closing door.

“Let me suck your cock.”

“Christ,” he’d said, voice strained.

“So, that a yes?” he’d asked, pulling on his belt. He heard him curse.

“That’s a yes, but my room is two doors over.” He’d made a head motion to the corner of the ceiling. Jack had looked up to see a camera pointed in their direction.

“Not a deal-breaker, you know. Been thinking about it all night, I even considered doing it in the bar’s toilet stalls.”

“Holy shit, where have you been all my life.”

It’d taken Gabriel almost three tries to unlock the door, as the key had kept slipping from his fingers when Jack pressed up against him and stole touches to the waistband of his jeans. Finally, they were alone, and Jack’s shirt was carelessly thrown to the floor. Gabriel wasted no time going to town with his belt, getting rid of it with trembling hands and almost ripping out his jeans in the process. Jack felt giddy with excitement. He snaked his hands up Gabriel’s black, tight t-shirt, admiring the hard muscle underneath. The man’s hands left the unbuckled belt and grabbed him by the wrists, directing Jack’s hands to his ass.

“Eager,” Jack panted, grinding his hips against Gabe’s.

“You try having fucking Blond Ambition all up on your case, see how well you handle it,” he breathed against his neck. 

Jack’s hands crawled to the front, undoing Gabriel’s button and pulling down the zipper. He didn’t think he could get this hard without being touched, but the tent in his pants was a dead giveaway to the effect the other man had on him. Before he could sink to his knees, Gabriel pulled him back by the shirt for another kiss. He allowed himself to be led to his lips, surrendering to the current. Stars appeared behind his eyelids as Gabriel pressed flush against him and kissed him deep and filthy, curling his toes and stealing his breath.

When he managed to will his lips to leave Gabriel’s, the other man let a whine of frustration. He pressed forward to chase them again, opening his eyes. The desperation with which he clung to Jack’s ass and pressed him closer, the lust in his gaze and the reflection of the night lights in his kiss-swollen lips was a sight that skyrocketed through Jack’s list of images burned on his brain, solidly landing on the #1 of things to jerk off to.

He slid down and put himself on his knees as he ran his nails down Gabriel’s torso, then pulled his pants and underwear down. He stole a glance upwards, relishing in the debauched state of the man above him, maintaining eye contact. He heard a _thunk_ as Gabriel’s head hit the wall when he released a shuddering breath, which made Jack palm himself through his pants to alleviate the pressure. It was getting uncomfortable, but his mind had zeroed-on the man’s dick —hard and thick, a wet dream come alive. He licked his lips and placed one hand on the man’s abdomen as the other rested against one of his thighs. He felt them tremble when his warm breath ghosted against the tip, spurring him on even further. He licked the tip to clean the bead of pre-cum that had gathered—as usual, the taste was too bitter, but hearing Gabriel gasp made it more than worth it and he moaned too, in spite of himself. He closed his lips around the head, giving it a suck before going back to using his tongue.

“Shit, you— you don’t play around.” His eyes were closed, but after seeing that Jack had stopped, he opened them again to look at him. Jack maintained eye contact–he knew what he looked like with a cock on his mouth–and Gabriel groaned, his eyelashes fluttering close again.

Jack took him in his mouth again, eager to find the spots that earnt him a bigger reaction out of Gabriel. He relished in each gasp and hitch in his breath he managed to coax out like a dying man, the sounds Gabriel made music to his ears and liquid, pure lust down his spine. Jack had never been with anyone this vocal, and he was beginning to think it would be very hard to go back to silence after this. Gabriel had placed his hand on Jack’s head, fingers tightening whenever Jack did anything particularly good, a staccato to accompany the movements of his hips —small and jerky, like he was containing himself. Jack didn’t think he’d be into pulling, but the pinpricks of pleasure-pain whenever he pulled hard were making him moan around the cock in his mouth. His own was hard and leaking, but he ignored it in favor of focusing on the way his tongue around the crown was making Gabriel tremble.

The way Gabriel reacted to his mouth, the soft litany of pleas and soft moans of his name, the twitches of his thighs and the soft grind of his hips were getting him more amped up than he’d ever been giving head, and he had to use a hand to unzip his pants and palm himself through the underwear to alleviate some of the pressure. He gasped when his hand found his member, taking more of Gabriel into his mouth, and before long he was almost at the base, with his nose touching his pubic hairs. Above him, Gabriel was gasping, his fingers pulling Jack’s hair just on the edge of pleasurable.

“Stop,” Gabriel gasped, suddenly, and he looked up. He let go of his dick, which came out with an obscene _pop._ Gabriel had hidden his face in the crook of his arm and was breathing heavily.

“What’s wrong?”

“That was _too_ close. And there’s a lot of things I want to do to you tonight.”

“Really?” He put his mouth next to his cock again, lips almost brushing the head. “I didn’t think you’d be a one-and-done kinda guy. I’m disappointed.”

Gabriel stared at him then, so intensely it made Jack shudder. “I can do this all night, blondie. Can you?”

Jack licked his lips, breathing against the sensitive tip. Gabriel choked on a breath. “I have a lot of time to make up for.”

He stared intently at Gabriel —who nodded slightly, giving him permission— before getting his lips back on his dick. It didn’t take much to get him there again, and he only got a broken plea of Jack’s name as a warning before hot fluid shot down his throat. Jack did his best to swallow as Gabriel’s body went limp against him: he licked him clean until his thighs started trembling.

“Fuck,” Gabriel breathed. Jack stood on wobbly legs to be on eye level with him again. He could feel his ragged breath against his lips, hot and inviting. Gabriel’s gaze turned predatory then, a smirk forming on his lips. “My turn,” he said.

Jack barely had time to register before he was being kissed again. He moaned against Gabriel’s lips as he was being manhandled across the room. His knees hit the edge of the bed and he got pushed into it just as Gabriel fell on top of him. The mattress dipped with their added weight, with its frame creaking when he placed a knee on each side of Jack’s hips, crawling to kiss him like the time spent apart had been unbearable.

Jack arched into the touch, his neglected member rubbing maddeningly against Gabriel’s hips. The man raked his nails up Jack’s torso from under his shirt, reveling in the soft gasps he’d made when the fingers grazed his nipples. The shirt was soon discarded and thrown carelessly to the floor as Jack’s skin hit the bedroom air. His hairs stood on end, both from the sudden cold and from the goosebumps, and his dog tags shone with the night lights filtering though the curtains.

Gabriel had taken the chance to get rid of his own shirt, too, and decorating that glorious torso Jack found equal matching metal. He had no time to comment on it, though, as Gabriel kissing his left nipple into full hardness was proving itself distracting enough.

“Just— just fuck me already.”

“Who’s eager now?” Gabriel seemed awfully smug and Jack could think of better uses for that mouth than smirking, so he ground against his hips and reveled in the soft gasp that escaped the man’s mouth.

“C’mon, c’mon,” he whispered, “I wanna ride you.”

It was easy to topple Gabriel. Despite what the man seemed, he became putty in Jack’s hands the moment he laid them on his body. How he was going to miss all this, Jack thought as he fumbled for the lube in the pocket of his pants.

“Lemme do it.”

Gabriel was soft and gentle with him, even as he was begging him to put another one in. He was getting impatient by the time he finally put the head of his dick in, and Jack had to focus on breathing through his nose to relax. Gabriel took to tracing soothing circles on his hip, whispering sweet nothings, but his thighs were trembling with the effort of staying still.

Jack set up a brutal pace that Gabriel matched grabbing him by the hips. He closed his eyes, lost in the sensation, until the soft, broken plea of his name in the man’s lips brought him over the edge.

***

He stood at attention the morning after, as fresh and proper as the few hours of sleep allowed him to. The sun shining in the sky made his eyes hurt with the intensity of the light, but he tried to stay focused. Even as his muscles ached with a pleasant burn he couldn’t quite ignore, even when his ass was still sore and every movement brought to mind the night before, even when he ached to come back to those messy sheets in the half-made bed. He’d woken up to find Gabriel gone already, the mattress still warm with his body heat when the alarm rang. He had spared a glance at himself in the mirror on his way out, checking that the clothes covered almost entirely the collection of hickeys the man had left on. And if he’d left the place with a pep in his step, that was no one’s business but his own.

It already felt like a nice memory, something to remember when loneliness got the best of him during the long months of SEP that were sure to come.

He should’ve known it couldn’t be that easy. He should’ve known that leaving a place with no strings attached never works; because when you aren’t looking, they crawl up your legs and make you trip on your feet.

He stared, trying not to let the surprise show in his eyes when he recognized the man standing in front of their group. It dawned on him like a car crash: quickly, in what seemed like an eternity.

“I’ll be your new commander officer,” Gabriel —Reyes— said, in what was honestly an overkill at this point. He began inspecting them one by one, and when his gaze landed on Jack, his mouth curved almost imperceptibly upwards. Jack gulped.

Hindsight’s a bitch.

**Author's Note:**

> I had the first idea for this in *checks calendar* January. Here it is. I really need to learn to write quicker. I haven't written NSFW in such a long time, please be gentle. Come chill with me [on Twitter!](https://twitter.com/ReddNightingale)


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